


Cycle 4, Year 29, Systems: Online

by zanthe



Series: Mechanics [9]
Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/zanthe
Summary: Egil comes home to a highly distressed M66.
Relationships: Egil/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles)
Series: Mechanics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767211
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Cycle 4, Year 29, Systems: Online

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU of an AU, specifically my Mechanics series, which I'll probably never properly write a multi-chapter story of (I am writing ficlets based on it but I've never actually publicly posted the timeline, and probably never will, sorry. Any context needed *should* be in the series though. 
> 
> Anyways, again, warnings for death, graphic descriptions of a corpse, ect.

“Egil!” Fiora waved from a few meters away, hurriedly walking over to say hello. “Fancy seeing you here in broad daylight, looking for materials?” She glanced over at the sheets of metal a Mechon behind him carried. 

“Yes,” Egil nodded, “here for the monthly trade with Rohan, we’re in need of paper and string again, and I commissioned a book cover as well.” He gestures for Fiora to follow while they talk, and she matches his brisk pace with ease. 

“Oooh, what sort of book is this one?” The Homs woman grins curiously, and Egil smiles.

“Nothing too fancy, I’m afraid, I’ll just be making a fresh copy of the tale of Ancient Daedala. We’re going to be testing the new printing system as well,” he casts a glance at the Mechon scurrying behind them, “hence the extra metal.” 

Fiora nods with an understanding hum, “y’know, I never understood why Kenny is so eager to accept metal in exchange for supplies.” 

“Oh, he probably sells it for better quality crafts,” Egil shrugs, “it’s none of my business once it’s out of my hands, I do recall him mentioning wanting to use metal for sculpting, however, so these sheets are extra malleable.” 

“I bet he’ll get good use out of those, then!” She grins, clapping her hands together. “I’ve gotta go, now! I’m planning to surprise Melia with her favorite dinner while she’s home for a visit!”

“Ah yes, she’s away often for imperial duties, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” Fiora sighed, “I’ll be going with her next week when she leaves again, so I expect you and Shulk to come see me off! Swing around my house on the way back and I’ll give you the details, see you!” And with that, she was off without a chance for Egil to say otherwise. Amused, he chuckled to himself, that girl never changed. 11 years later and she’d not lost a scrap of energy. 

The trade went as smoothly as ever, Rohan thanked him and took a little time to admire the metal, promising that next time Egil came over he’d get to see yet another of the man’s masterpieces. He also passed by Fiora’s house, where she handed him a slip of paper and a boxed lunch. “For Shulk, since we both know he’s probably not even had breakfast yet,” she snickered, and Egil thanked her. With a curt nod he made his way home at a calmer pace, the road wasn’t crowded and he could relax in the stillness of the Colony outskirts. 

When he got home, the first thing of note was Shulk’s M66/ROUND fluttering directly into him, whistling and chirping wildly before flying away into the hall. Odd behavior, it didn’t sound at all like any of the little Mechon’s programmed calls, and he shrugged it off as the creature’s ‘welcome’. The second thing he noticed, it was oddly quiet, and that put a feeling of unease into him. Even when working alone, Shulk often babbled to himself, thinking out loud to sort out his thoughts. “Shulk?” He called out, and the courier Mechon bumped into his back, bringing his attention to it. 

Maybe Shulk was asleep, Egil frowned. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and he’d told the Homs to take it easy today because of it. He placed the papers on the counter and stood to think for a moment as the courier hurried back to it’s charging station. M66/ROUND bumped into him again, chittering something rapidly, and he sighed, “What is the issue?” he asked it, and it sped off into the hallway once more. This time, he followed it. It was out of his sight fairly quickly, but the noises it made gave away exactly where it had gone. 

The Heavy Machinery wing, the part of the lab constructed to aid in the building of the larger Mechon. The lights were still on, and there was the low hum of the pistons churning molten steel in preparation to craft. Odd, Shulk wouldn’t leave the room on if he wasn’t using it, yet he was nowhere to be seen. One of the ladders was out too, the big one, and it was at a bad angle, as if ready to fall at any moment. 

On a normal occasion, he’d feel annoyed at such sloppiness, but the silence of the room and M66’s loud cries only made his worry grow. He followed to where the Mechon was chirping from, behind the M93 in progress, and froze mid step. 

There, behind the Mechon and beneath the ladder, lay Shulk, eerily still. His hair was caked red on one side, and when Egil stepped closer he could see that same red on the end of the M93. Perhaps he’d just been knocked unconscious, he told himself as he hurriedly knelt down beside Shulk, bringing a hand to his chest.

“..Shulk?” He whispered, voice hoarse with fear. He couldn’t feel a heartbeat. “Shulk!” He lifted the Homs up, his body as stiff as the corpses he’d worked with years before. “Wake up!” He hissed, and M66 cooed sadly, perching itself on Shulk’s shoulder and pecking his face, then looking up at Egil. “What... happened?” He asked feebly, as if the Mechon could respond. It was obvious, and he knew it. The ladder askew, the hint of blood on the M93, the wound on the side of Shulk’s head, the fact he wasn’t bleeding any more. 

Shulk was dead. He had fallen, perhaps exhaustion had made him stumble, or he hadn’t secured the ladder properly. He’d fallen, hit his head, gotten knocked unconscious, and bled to death. Egil didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t, maybe the panic and the shock was hitting him, but he wanted to laugh, because Shulk had survived so many battles, been knocked around by all sorts of things, how was a fall going to kill him so easily? It couldn’t. It simply couldn’t be. Maybe he was too shocked to feel a pulse, too afraid to feel him breathing, but he was cold, so terribly cold.

Egil stood, carrying Shulk gently in his arms, “You’re ok,” he whispered, trying to reassure Shulk, or maybe himself, “you’re going to be alright.” He should get help, why was he so  _ stiff? _ “You’ll wake up any moment now, and,” his voice choked up, “I’ll scold you for being so stupid, for not listening when I told you to go to sleep,” he stumbled, shock making his legs numb, “and I’ll patch you up,” he walked towards part of the lab he’d sworn to never use again after he’d finished mending those who’d been turned into Face units, “and we can move on from this, alright?” 

He set Shulk’s body down on the operating table, and booted up the systems, hooked him up to the life support with trembling hands that he forced steady. The computer gave him the confirmation, but he dismissed it. He’d brought the dead back to life plenty of times, and now he would do it again.

  
  


=============================================================

There was a low beep, Shulk could hear it. Steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Faintly, he could hear someone whisper, but he couldn’t quite make sense of their words. He tried to open his eyes, but it was much too bright, so he shut them again, focusing on the sounds and feelings. Feelings that were odd, like his body was too heavy, and he couldn’t feel his feet. Was that normal? Sometimes he felt like this when he’d gotten too little sleep after a long day, or when he woke up too suddenly from a nap and got stuck, unable to move. Was it sleep paralysis? He felt himself drift off again… 

When he woke up again, it was easier to move, but his body still felt odd. He grumbled tiredly, tried to blink away the drowsiness and sit up, but a hand was quickly on his chest pushing him gently back down, and when his eyes finally focused he saw Egil’s face above him. He looked worried, and exhausted. “Egil?” He tried to sit up again, but the Machina shushed him and kept him down, shaking his head. 

“Don’t move just yet,” he whispered, cupping Shulk’s face with one hand and brushing aside a few locks of hair with the other, “take it easy, we’ll… we’ll have a lot to talk about. How are you feeling?” 

“I feel… alright. Weird, but alright.” Shulk frowned, looking around, “what happened, where are we? Last I remember I was in the Heavy Machinery wing, looking for…” he pursed his lips, trying to recall. He sat up, and this time Egil allowed him to. “I was looking for one of the wrenches, there’s a loose bolt in the M93 I need to fix.” 

“You can think about that later,” Egil murmured, and Shulk looked up at him, quirking a brow. He was being oddly gentle, he was never this quiet unless Shulk was ill. 

He took in his surroundings again, “Did something happen?” He asked as he realized where they were sitting, “Why are we in the reconstruction lab? I thought…” Shulk blinked, bringing a hand to the side of his head. His face was soft, but as his fingers trailed further back he could feel a metal plating. 

“Shulk,” Egil stared down at him with an expression he couldn’t read, “I… I’m sorry,” he breathed out. 

“I don’t understand,” Shulk furrowed his brows, “I was on the ladder, trying to grab something, and it was just a little out of reach, so I leaned over…” he blinked slowly, “and then… I fell… I… I think I hit my head on something, next thing I know I’m…” He meets Egil’s gaze once more, but the Machina turns away with a pained expression. “Egil, did I die?” 

Egil didn’t answer right away, just lowered his head and clenched his fists. “Yes,” he hissed out, “you were dead, and I…” 

“You brought me back, the only way you knew how…” He looked at himself, but not much had changed. There was a new scar on his torso, however. 

“I had to work quickly,” Egil didn’t look at him, “replace your heart and lungs, and a few of your ribs. You fell a long way, and hard, your head was the only external injury, but you sustained severe internal damage as well.” 

“How long have I been gone?”

“Five days.” 

“Does anyone else-”

“No. I haven’t left since… I didn’t… I panicked, I didn’t know what to do, I should have taken you to someone who could truly help you, but. You were dead when I found you,” his voice shook, “and it is… generally frowned upon to bring the dead back to life,” Shulk could hear the strain in his voice, “but I’ve done it before. Countless times. I couldn’t bear to leave you like that, even if it was wrong.” 

“I,” Shulk started, frowning at the lack of words but leaning forward to place a hand on Egil’s shoulder, “it’s ok.”

“It’s not!” Egil hissed, “I’ve grown far too numb to tampering with life, and the dead can’t consent to being brought back to life, it’s a  _ crime _ for a reason-” at last he turned to face Shulk, and paused when the Hom’s hands reached up to hold his face. 

“It’s alright,” Shulk whispered, “what would I have said? ‘No, leave me dead and mourn my stupidity’?” he sighs, “I can’t believe I get to say I’ve died three times now.” There’s a little puff from Egil at that, and he smiles, “I’m sorry that I’ve forced your hand into necromancy again.” 

“ _ You’d better damn be, _ ” Egil tried to scold him, but his voice shook far too much to sound threatening as he pulled Shulk into a tight hug. “ _ I’m not leaving your side until I’m certain you won’t die in another stupid fashion, _ ” he muttered into Shulk’s shoulder, and the Homs chuckled. 

“Is that a promise, or a threat?” Shulk asked.

“ _ Both. _ ” Egil replied. “I have to keep a close eye on you, anyways. I had to reverse engineer a lot of the technology that the Face pilots used to keep them alive, and now that you’re… alive again, we should probably ask Linada to borrow that regeneration device.” 

“So I don’t get to keep a partially robotic body for a while?” Shulk joked, but Egil frowned at that, and he grimaced.

“Shulk, it’s not something to be happy about. You  _ died, _ have you done that enough that it’s not a big deal to you? It’s the second time I’ve had to hold your corpse.” Egil scowls at that fact, and Shulk feels a pang of sympathy. 

“Sorry, I won’t joke about it. Can I see what you did, though?”

Egil stands to retrieve a monitor device, pulling up a screen with a multitude of diagrams and showing handing the device to Shulk. “I’m going to fetch you some water, your body is very weak right now, and I can’t bear to look at those notes anymore.

“Alright,” Shulk nods as Egil departs, waiting to hear the door shutting before pulling up the notes. Five broken ribs, they’d punctured his lungs, heart, and stomach in the impact. The blow to the head had caused some brain trauma as well, apparently, enough to have caused loss of vision, and damage to his hearing, but he could see just fine now. There were mentions of optical adjustments, and when he inhaled he could tell these lungs were not his own. Synthetic, most likely, he glanced at the machinery. 

The room was in disarray, he could tell Egil hadn’t been in a good place mentally, but that was beyond doubt. There was a tug of guilt in his stomach, Shulk wasn’t afraid to admit he’d been stupid. Joking was a way to cope, and now that he sat alone he felt horrified. Maybe, after surviving so much chaos, he’d forgotten how  _ mortal _ he was, how fragile. He couldn’t imagine how traumatic it must have been for Egil, though. He’d seen others die, many times, in visions and in reality, but he’d never held a dead person, and he hoped he’d never have to.

Sighing, Shulk tried to stand up, but Egil had been right when he said his body was weak, because immediately he fell back against the table, legs trembling. Instead he read more of the notes, trying not to feel disturbed, to pretend they were about someone else. Egil had worked very fast, his heart was replaced and functional on the first day, to ensure his body stayed alive he was put on life support with what little supplies were left over from previous operations, apparently on day four he’d regained consciousness briefly, but it wasn’t until today he woke up properly. 

Egil returned with a glass of water and a piece of bread, “You can’t eat too much yet, it’ll shock your system.” He set the bread on Shulk’s lap and put the glass against Shulk’s lips, tilting it slowly to let him drink. He tried to grab it himself, but Egil wouldn’t allow it, and it was hard not to choke when his body reacted to it by wanting to chug as much water as possible. 

“Slow down,” Egil murmured, smoothing his hair down with his free hand, “I can get you more water soon, but you must drink slowly.” 

When he was done with the water, Shulk began nibbling on the bread, Egil watching him carefully as he did. He couldn’t blame him for being worried, after all, but there was an itch of indignance from Shulk at being babied like this. He wasn’t going to choke on water, and he wasn’t going to choke on- he coughed as he swallowed the bread, and frowned. Ok, maybe he would choke on bread if he kept up this attitude. 

Tired, he layed back down, listening to the quiet beep of the heart monitor, breathing slowly as Egil ran gentle fingers through his hair. “You’ll be alright,” he murmured, gaze distant, and Shulk tried not to let the guilt prick him when he realized those words were as much for Egil himself as they were for him. 

Silently, he promised he’d never put Egil through this ever again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Cycle 4: This is the 3rd time Shulk's died, so the 4th time he's been alive.  
> Year 29: He's 29 (this au takes it's time, this is year 11.)
> 
> Shulk has died at the hands of the father (dickson), the son (himself), and the holy spirit (zanza). Just thought that was funny enough to share.


End file.
